The Casefiles of Mordin Solus, Detective - An Itch To Be Scratched
by MrFredCDobbs
Summary: When an outbreak of scale-itch occurs on the Normandy, Detective Mordin Solus vows to find the culprit.


_[Author's Note - I should probably make clear upfront that while this is a riff on Mass Effect 2's one bestiality joke, I do not at any point "go there" or come close to it and the ultimate reveal is pretty benign. I've also slightly modified Mordin's line from the game that this is based off of for story-telling reasons.]_

The name is Solus. Mordin Solus. Lately I've been working for a clandestine human terrorist organization called Cerberus. Not ordinary employment for a salarian. But then I am no ordinary salarian. Done a lot of things in my time. Some honorable like scientist and teacher. Once ran medical clinic on Omega. Other paths took me to darker places. Espionage. Covert operations. Wetwork. Biowarfare. Light opera. Children's television. Currently serving on the Normandy SR-2 as science officer under Commander Shepard. Yes, *that* Shepard. Can't tell you everything. But some stories can be shared. Example: the time the ship was infected with a scale-itch outbreak.

Story begins with Shepard striding into my office. She didn't bother to knock that day. Never had before. No reason to start then. When you're the commander of the Normandy, you go where you please, when you please. And it must have pleased her a lot to be near me. Visits were frequent.

_"Mordin, do you have time to talk?"_ commander asked. She always asked that. Just wanted to discuss mission details or my latest research, she would say. But her eyes told a different, "M" rated story - A tale of deep desire for a certain salarian. Almost routine situation for me. Regardless of species, females are attracted to intelligent specimens, forceful personalities. Danger and mystery attractive too. As a leading scientific mind and former Special Tasks Group agent, my allure can be overpowering.

Tried before to let Shepard down easy. Told her that this eligible bachelor was only available to salarian women. And sometimes asari. _"If intended to try human, would try you."_ Probably a mistake to say that. Gave her hope she could eventually change my mind. Explained why she kept coming by. I stressed that mission was too important. Needed to keep this professional.

Had other reason to avoid relationship. Hearts not only things that could get broken. Shepard was N-7 graduate. Council Spectre too. All woman but part cybernetic. Not one to be toyed with. Deadlier than a krogan battlemaster and even less forgiving. Once saw commander throw an Eclipse merc out of a high-rise widow, then open a betting pool on how many times he would bounce. I won 100 credits that day.

Told her I couldn't talk this time. _"Perhaps later. Trying to determine how scale-itch got onto Normandy. Sexually-transmitted disease. Originates with varren. Implications unpleasant."_ Good mood-killer. Story also had virtue of being true. Outbreak was mysterious, troubling.

_"How did you learn about the outbreak?"_ commander asked. EDI interceded, said she detected presence of scale-itch detritus in Normandy air filtration system. Live carrier had to be present on ship. I requested permission to investigate, determine source.

_"Permission granted."_

Told commander not to worry. Detective Solus was on the case.

* * *

My first interview was with Dr. Karin Chakwas. While I was qualified as physician, my duties were mainly scientific. She was ship's primary doctor. Might have valuable information about outbreak, I thought. Might even have found source already.

Chakwas was human. Career military doctor. Didn't get to know her well myself. According to Normandy helmsman Jeff Moreau, she was from human colony of Milf-topia in the Cougar System. Knocked on door to her office. Doctor said she was busy but could answer a few questions. I tried to break ice by asking Chakwas, _"How often do you return home to Milf-topia?"_ Question resulted in unexpectedly sarcastic response, _"Oh, about as often as you remove your head from your cloaca."_

I noted scale-itch outbreak, said I was investigating cause. Chakwas nodded, said she was alerted to evidence of outbreak too. Had not investigated it herself. She deemed it _"low priority."_ Noted scale-itch merely temporary irritation. No notable harm otherwise. _"The biggest consequence to catching it is the harm it does to a person's reputation,"_ she noted. _"Because it means either you or someone you slept with did more than take the varren out for a walk. So to speak."_

She was certain that if member of the Normandy crew had it, they got it from another member of their own species. _"No need to embarrass that crewmember further if all they did was get drunk on shore leave and pick somebody up at a bar,"_ she argued.

I disagreed. Said medical oath requires we prevent further spread. _"If you want to investigate, go ahead. I have more pressing things to do,"_ she said. Had Chakwas conduct omni-tool scan of me while I did same for her. Both scans negative. Personally did not remember ever having had any contact with varren but decided you can never be too sure.

Chakwas suggested I talk to ship's yeoman, Kelly Chambers. Doctor noted yeoman's duties included compiling psychological reports on crew. Might have ideas, leads on possible culprit.

The yeoman was young human female. Attractive by her species' odd standards, I'm told. Lack of cranial horns or crest a deal-breaker for me, however. She was shocked to learn of outbreak._ "Is it only sexually-transmitted?"_ she asked. _"No other way?"_

No other way, I replied. Are there varren on the ship? I asked. No, she said. Showed me official manifests, inspection reports, commander's log. No records of varren found. Yeoman then had EDI conduct ship-wide scan. Again, nothing. Chambers had no insight on source of outbreak. Agreed to be scanned for presence of scale-itch. Scan was negative. Yeoman ruled out as source.

* * *

Decided to talk next to ship's executive officer, Miranda Lawson. Biotic Cerberus agent. Intelligent. Deadly. Devious. Inordinately fond of white swimsuits. Would have made a great dalatrass. Agreed outbreak was troubling. Suspected culprit was one of recently hired "specialist" crew. Mission urgency gave little time to properly investigate backgrounds, she noted. _"When it comes to intimate relations, I prefer the company of humans. And I keep my standards high,"_ she said.

Lawson changed topic. Made point of saying how much she admires Special Tasks Group. _"You are doing what is necessary to protect your people. That is admirable. That is what Cerberus aspires towards: the advancement of humanity. To uplift it and push it towards the same level of scientific, political & cultural power as your people. We have a lot of common ground, Cerberus and the STG."_

That common ground being that we both want our species to gain power that puts us ahead of all other species, I noted.

_"Precisely!"_ Lawson replied. _"See, if more humans and salarians sat down and talked like we are doing right now, things would be so much clearer."_

Soon discovered that Lawson's common ground did not extend to easily submitting to scan to see if she was scale-itch carrier. Demanded to know why I suspected her. Noted her species' mating customs can be quite peculiar. Lawson sneered but consented to scan. No presence of scale-itch found. I ruled her out as suspect.

* * *

Ship-wide scan performed by EDI did show heightened presence of scale itch detritus in ship's cargo bay air filters. I pondered, remembered that varren are native to Tuchanka. One Tuchanka native definitely on ship: the krogan "Grunt" quartered in deck four cargo bay. I paid him a visit. Not happy to see me. Like most krogan, would have rather had his quad checked out by doctor with ice-cold hands than talk to a salarian.

Grunt was member of species that had evolved to be perfect killing machines. This one genetically engineered to be the perfect version of that. Seemed like overkill to me. Always left trail of destruction and maimings in his wake. Had krogan been resident of Omega my medical clinic business would have been steady enough to ensure profitability, even allow possible franchising opportunities.

Told krogan about investigation. He offered me a deal. Drinking contest. If I matched him shot-for-shot, he would answer all questions. I warned krogan. Last time I was in a drinking contest, one person ended up on the floor, face down in a puddle of their own vomit.

_"Which one? You or the other person?"_ the krogan asked.

Irrelevant detail, I replied. Challenged krogan to pour drinks. _"Show me what you're made of!"_

He poured shot of straight ryncol. Downed it in one gulp. Smiled. Krogan evidently "made of" titanium-steel alloy with silaris armoring.

Poured second shot of liquor. Pushed it towards me. _"Drink!"_ he demanded.

I downed ryncol in one gulp. Stared krogan in the eyes. Then woke up on the floor, face down in a puddle of my own vomit. In retrospect, irrelevant detail of last drinking contest may have been more relevant than I thought.

Got back on my feet. Told EDI Normandy's inertial dampeners not functioning properly. Ship far from stable, I noted. EDI contended ship's inertial dampeners working just fine. I told EDI ship's public address system also malfunctioning. Volume far in excess of necessary levels. EDI contended volume levels had not been adjusted.

Made mental note to talk to Shepard. Ship's artificial intelligence showing disturbing signs of going rogue.

Krogan laughed. Said he couldn't be source of scale-itch outbreak. Noted he was tank-bred and only released a short while ago. Had yet to undergo mating rituals of any kind. Was hopeful he might on next trip to Tuchanka. Said friend in Clan Urdnot knew of _"sure thing."_

He consented to scan. No trace of scale-itch was found. Krogan ruled out as suspect.

* * *

Another plausible suspect spotted on same level of ship. Engineer Kenneth Donnelly. Well-known for often making lewd, sexually-suggestive remarks. Comments a sign of deviancy? Perhaps. Means of hiding depraved practices in plain sight? Possible.

I approached Donnelly in the engine room. Noted scale-itch outbreak. Informed him he was chief suspect. Hoped to rattle him, get confession.

_"Ach! And why would I be doin' that now, ya gobshite? Are ya sayin' the Normandy has been runnin' short on tissues n' lotion? Cuz, it'd have ta be a many a long night after that before a varren of all things would start transformin' into a wee comely lass as far as Ken Donnelly is concerned!"_

I checked my omni-tool translator to see if it was malfunctioning. Engineer Gabriela Daniels informed me it likely wasn't. Donnelly used peculiar earth dialect called "Scottish" that confounded most translation tools. She was luckily bilingual. Informed me that Donnelly claimed to be innocent.

Donnelly refused to be scanned. Daniels consented to be scanned. This prompted Donnelly to consent as well. No trace of scale-itch was found on either. Two more suspects ruled out.

_"Convinced, ye pure mad dafty?"_ Donnelly asked. Daniels defended my investigation. Told Donnelly there was _"no bigger pervert"_ on the ship than him. Said she would not have been shocked if scan of him had been positive. Donnelly disputed assertion. Vowed to name a bigger pervert just as soon as he thought of one.

[Detective's note: still waiting for Donnelly's response as of this writing.]

* * *

As I left the engineering area, crewmate Tali'Zorah approached me. Asked why I didn't request to scan her. Told her she was already ruled out as culprit. Eliminated many at start of investigation, I noted. Asari justicar and drell assassin's religious beliefs and ascetic lifestyles made them highly unlikely as source of scale-itch outbreak. Geth crewmate Legion ruled out due to being synthetic. Helmsman Moreau's pre-existing Vrolik's Syndrome ruled him out. Commander Shepard ruled out due to clear preference for salarians. Told Tali'Zorah her weak immune system and need for exosuit clearly ruled her out. No need for scan.

The quarian engineer stood silent for several moments. Hard to read face through semi-opaque mask but seemed upset. She then agreed with me in unusually aggressive manner.

_"Of course. You are right,"_ she growled._ "If there is a sexually-transmitted disease going through the ship, the QUARIAN couldn't possibility be source. If somebody is having lots of sex, picking up people in nightclubs in the Citadel and Omega and Illium, it couldn't possibly be the QUARIAN. If one member of the Normandy crew is sleeping with all of the other members of the crew, there's no way the QUARIAN could be involved."_

She marched away, muttering loudly in her native language.

* * *

Went through crew roster, discovered another possible suspect in cargo area. Human biotic quartered in area underneath Donnelly and Daniels. Crewmate "Jack." Violent, anti-social criminal. Had the biotic power of an asari matriarch, a yahg's love of destruction and the fashion sense of a vorcha. Fond of committing acts deemed _"transgressive"_ by other humans. Had more tattoos than hair. Impressive feat for a human.

I approached her quarters slowly and cautiously. Explained investigation. Asked for cooperation and consent for a scan.

_"You think I'm into varren?!"_ Jack scoffed._ "Really, that's where your mind's at? And here I thought Donnelly was the biggest perv on the ship."_

Biotic denied any human-varren relations. Said she'd consent to scan for presence of scale-itch if I first informed her of where the liver is located on a salarian body. Was pleased to see human was developing broader interests. Optimistic she might be planning to take up medical training after conclusion of Normandy mission. Informed her that salarian liver located midway up the right side of torso. Pointed to area on self. Human then delivered biotic-powered punch to same area. Staggered, could taste own bile in throat. Suddenly grateful human's inquiry hadn't involved salarian reproductive organs.

_"Don't you ever accuse me of doing something like that again!"_ Jack hissed. Allowed me to scan her. No evidence of scale-itch. Another suspect ruled out.

* * *

One other crewmate bunked on Deck Four. Veteran mercenary Zaeed Massani. Founder of Blue Suns group. Members later turned on him, held him down, shot him in face at point-blank rage. Likely indicator that Massani had poor management style. Older human. Hair flecked with gray. Right side of his face looked like a thresher maw got halfway through dinner then decided it craved batarian instead. Long career of working for unsavory types, doing unsavory things. Could not rule him out.

I explained probe. Massani laughed._ "Somebody on the ship got fresh with a varren?! Guess they got goddam lonely, eh?! Well, that takes me back... I was working with a team of drell assassins years ago. We were looking to take down the head of a gang that was encroaching on our employer's turf. Thing was, it turned out that all of the drell had been secretly paid off by our target to take out their - that is, my - employer instead. I was the only one who wasn't in on it! So we go to make what I think is the hit on the target and then the shit hits the fan. Literally. See, the target also had these vorcha bodyguards who just went ahead and did it whenever 'nature called,' no matter where they were, so ..."_

Nearly an hour later the tale ends with, _"...and I was the only one to make it out of there alive."_

_"Fascinating, indeed, Mr. Massani,"_ I told him. _"What does this have to do with varren or a scale-itch outbreak?"_

_"Varren?! Scale-itch?! Damned if I know," _mercenary replied. _"Jessie is the only girl I've ever needed."_

He consented to be scanned. No evidence of scale-itch. One more suspect ruled out.

* * *

Kasumi Goto was admitted thief, criminal. Lived_ "off the grid."_ Bent other rules perhaps? Doubtful but with list of suspects thinned, I examined less-likely culprits not yet ruled out. Goto was surprisingly amenable to interview. Fascinating art pieces decorated her bunk area. Literary tastes were impressive too. Shelves included annotated volumes of salarian poetry, key texts relating to Earth religion Hinduism, collected works of Gilbert & Sullivan. Considered asking to borrow them. Had recently misplaced my own copies of each.

Goto disturbed to learn of scale-itch outbreak. _"Who would do such a thing? Ugh!"_ Was very curious to know if crewmate Jacob Taylor had been ruled out as source. Not yet, I said. Seemed unlikely culprit, I told her. Goto insistent I be thorough and check out entire rest of crew. Indicated strong preference that I interview Taylor next. Requested update, pictures of naked torso if possible. I pointed out scans do not require subject to remove clothes. Goto argued it was necessary in Taylor's case due to unusually rugged chest. Possible scale-itch could hide inside numerous ridges, crevices created by his abdominal muscles, she warned. Took request under advisement. Goto announced she was ready to be scanned herself. Scan was negative. Goto ruled out as culprit.

* * *

First Lieutenant Jacob Taylor was ex-Alliance soldier turned Cerberus agent. When I stated purpose of visit he broke into laughter. _"Do you really think I would ever need to do that?"_ Stripped off shirt. Pointed to chest. _"Do you know what these are called on humans? They are called 'washboard abs.' I never - never - leave the club alone if I want."_ Informed Taylor that scale-itch also transferable from human to human. He became quieter, said he was unaware of this. Indicated a check up might be in order after all. Seemed anxious to get official word. Asked if scan checked for other sexually-transmitted diseases.

Goto's theory that scale-itch could hide in crevices of Taylor's abdominal muscles seemed unlikely but requested he remain shirtless nevertheless. Scan was negative. _"Well, of course!"_ Taylor exclaimed. _"Was there any doubt?"_

Subsequently noticed unusual glitch in my omni-tool that activated camera function during scan and forwarded footage to unknown location. Glitch vanished with subsequent uses of omni-tool.

* * *

Crewmate Garrus Vakarian was next interview. Turian ex-soldier, marksman. Also former C-Sec officer. Amiable, if rather obsessive. Almost always found in ship's forward gun battery. Continually made minute adjustments to artillery. Could never seem to get it exactly right.

Told him purpose of visit. Was mildly offended. _"Mordin, do you really think I would do that?"_ he asked.

Simply examining all possible culprits, however unlikely, I said. Noted I had already ruled out most of Normandy crew. Pointed out that my inquiry had found little interest in inter-species relationships of any kind. Only notable exception was Commander Shepard. Had strong interest in_ "a certain crewmember,"_ I noted.

Vakarian seemed surprised. Dropped voice to conspiratorial whisper. "_Really? Who's she eyeing?__"_ he asked.

Initially surprised turian hadn't already noticed. Then realized this explained failed career as C-Sec officer. Poor investigative skills. Missed obvious clues. Told him commander was fixated on_ "an individual she recruited on Omega."_ Thought that would give him chance to finally piece things together.

Appeared to work._ "Ohhh... __You're sure about this? I mean, how do you know?"_ he inquired.

Told him I got it straight from the commander herself. She had made her interest clear several times during chats in my lab.

Turian smacked palm against head. _"Every time she has come by here I've brushed her off and told her I was in the middle of some calibrations..."_ Returned voice to conspiratorial whisper._ "What do you think? I mean, worth a shot?"_

No, I said. Humans far too alien, unattractive. No cranial horns or crest, I noted.

He disagreed. _"I don't know... I mean, human females do kind of look like asari. Well, mostly... I think it could work."_

Realized we had strayed far from original purpose of visit. Asked turian if he would consent to scan. Agreed. Results were negative. Vakarian ruled out as suspect.

* * *

Investigation had hit a wall thicker than the fine print in a volus contract. Baffled by lack of leads. Headed to mess hall to take meal, plan next move. Mess Officer Rupert Gardner announced he had concocted new _"pyjak chili"_ recipe. Noted chili peppers hard to come by outside of earth. Used Tuchanka plant that looks _"sort of like a chili pepper"_ in its place. I tasted, strongly recommended he wait until earth chili pepper supply replenished. Decided to return to cargo bay, conduct more thorough search of area for clues to outbreak.

Upon reaching cargo bay signs of food poisoning unmistakable. Became more nauseous, dizzy than that one time I traveled with Commander Shepard in Mako. Inky blackness followed. Woke up on the floor, face down in a puddle of vomit. This time was different however. Had become familiar with color, texture, smell of my own vomit. This vomit was not the same. Conducted omni-tool scan of substance. Revealed to be varren vomit. Relatively fresh. Stench of it, along with effects of Gardener's chili, had caused my loss of consciousness.

So, part of mystery was solved: a live varren *was* on the Normandy, probably hidden in cargo hold. That was likely sole source of scale-itch detritus. But hidden where precisely? And how did it get on board? Developed theory. Staked out cargo hold, hid in corner. One hour later stakeout bore fruit. Lone figure entered cargo bay carrying disposable bag.

Yeoman Kelly Chambers.

I remained discreetly hidden. Chambers opened bag, laid out container of mess hall leftovers.

_"Mickey? Where are you, boy? I got dinner!"_ she shouted. A varren bounded out from inside a maze of cargo containers. Put his front paws on Chambers. Nearly knocked her over. The yeoman laughed. _"Ok, ok, here you go. Eat up."_ Scratched varren's head as he wolfed down food. Chambers wrinkled nose. _"Ugh! The doctor was right! Sorry, boy, but you got a problem going on! Gonna have to give you a bath. Don't worry. I got a special shampoo to fix you up."_

I emerged from shadows. _"You're not going to be shampooing anything from the brig, Ms. Chambers!"_

Yeoman gasped. _"It's not what it looks like!"_ she protested.

_"It looks like you snuck a pet varren on to the Normandy and have been keeping it hidden here in the cargo bay! And that varren has scale-itch!"_ I retorted.

_"Ok, it's exactly what it looks like,"_ Chambers conceded. _"But you have to understand. I had no choice!"_

_"Start talking!"_ I told her.

Chambers broke down, confessed. She had gone to an animal shelter on the Citadel. Favorite shore leave activity of hers. Spotted varren. Discovered he was slated to be put down. Impulsively adopted him. Only afterwards realized Normandy regulations prohibit non-aquatic pets larger than hamsters. Reached out to all friends residing on Citadel. Couldn't find another family to take care of varren. With no other option, brought beast on board the Normandy. Planned to hide animal until she could arrange method to ship him to her sister.

_"You are holding out!"_ I told her._ "How did you get beast onboard the ship? Sensors, scanning devices should have made this impossible."_

_"I... had help. But I'm not going to say who! I don't want to get anyone else in trouble!"_ Chambers declared.

Kasumi Goto decloaked. She had been sitting on top of nearby cargo container._ "It's fine, Kelly. I've been in much worse jams."_ Goto turned to me._ "It's like this, Doc: Kelly called me while she was on shore leave last week, begged for my help. I said, 'Smuggling a live animal? No way! Too much trouble!' She kept on begging. And begging. And begging some more. Talked me into visiting the shelter to see the varren. I shouldn't have done that 'cause I'm a big ol' softy. But I did. Then I saw him. And I couldn't say 'No!' anymore after I looked into those big black eyes. So I briefly disabled ship security and implanted a program in the computer system to erase any varren data as soon as it was detected. Guess I overlooked anything turning up in the air filters though. Ah well, I'll know better the next time I try to smuggle a live animal."_

Chambers looked at me, bit her lower lip._ "So, what are you going to do, Dr. Solus?"_ Goto looked at me expectantly as well. Varren was less concerned. Beast demonstrated this by sticking his head inside Chambers' disposable bag in apparent search for more treats.

Pondered Chamber's question. Had been fixated on uncovering mystery. Punishing offenders hadn't previously entered thoughts. Realized it still didn't need to.

_"My purpose was to find source of outbreak, end it. If you promise to wash varren, use medical shampoo to end scale-itch problem, then my work is done. Can close case. Will use doctor-patient confidentiality to keep details private. However, cannot protect you if varren detected by another crewmember."_

Chambers gave profuse thanks. Goto merely winked. Varren remained indifferent. Both humans then fetched buckets and towels, commenced cleaning filthy animal.

* * *

Not my most glamorous case, I admit. Too many instances of me waking up face down in a puddle of vomit, for one thing. But living a life of danger and adventure can lead one to unpleasant places. Just have to deal with it, address circumstances as they arise. Important thing was that mystery was solved, Normandy crew protected from potential skin irritation. When the galaxy is on the line, every little bit helps.

With mystery solved, I now have spare time to catch up on my reading. Luckily, just found my missing books of salarian poetry, Hindu religion and Gilbert & Sullivan. Had apparently misfiled them on wrong shelf. Knew they'd turn up though. After all, nothing stays hidden for long from Detective Mordin Solus.

-The End-

_[Special Thanks to Lara Jayd for several helpful suggestions to the text and pointing out the jokes that really bombed.]_


End file.
